The Cresperian Alliance (31 page)

Even on the sunlit side, the skies hazed, with faint, flickering rainbow hues visible in the atmosphere, and laser beams and detonations rippling across the sky, competing with the sun.

Black spots appeared in the multicolored haze, and ground troops prepared as the spots resolved into Snapper troop carrier vessels.

"GET ‘EM!” Terhune shouted orders as fast as he could get breath. “Take out every damn Snapper ship, runabout, fighter, whatever, as fast as you can! Get word to the ground over the quantum comm to get ready, they've got incoming! Have the Space Marines on board ships get ready in case they have to go planetside! MOVE!"

The gunners aboard the starships worked hard, but there were simply too many tiny ships, and not enough time to tell fighter from troop ship. The Indian ship, the
Chariot of the Gods
, evidently hadn't had time to properly outfit themselves with the quantum shields; a PEP discharge struck the vessel amidships, and it split in two, the halves venting gases and bodies, as sparks and detonations ran throughout the pieces.

"We're getting overrun!” Terhune decided, watching the battle. “Bain! Close up ranks for the Indian ship! Comm! Have the maximum number of Space Marines ready to move planetside. We can set the gunnery on auto if we have to. Put the orbital cannons on maximum! Send the clipper ships after the troop runabouts!"

The small, swift, spheres promptly went invisible and darted about, just above the mesosphere. Their presence was only detectable by the destruction of Snapper troop ships in wide swaths of space.

Around the globe, Snapper ships were landing in rural areas. Any that got too close to shielded cities were taken out by automated cannon, but more rural areas were being overrun, despite the best efforts of military units around the world. The Snappers seemed in particular to prefer targeting smaller towns, which had not been shielded due to limited resources.

The 101st Division took on the defense of the upper Southern United States. But they were spread thin, from the Ohio River on the north, the Mississippi River on the west, and the Tennessee River on the south and east.

In a little town called Olive Grove, just over the Mississippi state line from Memphis, a unit battling a particularly heavy infestation of Snappers was horrified to see one Snapper soldier decapitate a fleeing civilian, then run to catch the head. It sliced off the top of the skull with its laser pistol, then dug its beak into the pale, convoluted tissue of the exposed brain, eating several large bites before casting the skull away. Blood and neural fluid dribbled from its beak as it sought another target.

A concussion rifle returned the favor, scrambling its brain and internal organs before it could take another step. The Snapper fell to the ground, orange fluid seeping from all orifices. The stench was horrible.

"Dear GOD!” the unit leader cried into his radio. “They're CANNIBALS! We need help here! We can't fight and keep the civilians safe, too! We'll be overwhelmed!"

"We've got a two front war going on here,” Singletary told his President. “Space and ground. And I do mean ground. As in the whole planet."

"How bad?” Waterman asked, dreading the answer.

"Well, aside from multiple reports that animal brains aren't the only kind the Snappers like—"

"Oh, dear GOD,” Waterman whispered fervently, turning pale.

"...Several field positions are flatly being extended far beyond their capabilities. They can't protect the civvies and fight, too.” Singletary gazed solemnly at Waterman. “Tom, we've got to bring the enhanced Marines in. We've GOT to."

Waterman stared back for a long moment, then nodded. “All right, Martin. Call Terhune and report the situation. Request help. We did have contingency plans for this, right?"

"We did, sir."

"Initiate them."

Tomlinson listened carefully to the orders being issued in his ear. He gestured Peggy and Piki out of the MASH room as he moved over to Bangler.

"Bang,” he said, “tell your gunners to set everything on auto."

"WHAT?!” Bang said, startled. “No offense, sir, but it's one thing to have a brain behind the cannon, analyzing and targeting strategic points on the other ship, and another to have a computer doing it."

"I know, but we're needed downstairs,” Tomlinson explained. “The Snappers are overcoming the regular troops, especially in the more populated areas. They can't do crowd control, rescue, and fighting all at the same time. They're spread too thin. Some of the civvies are joining in—kind of creatively, from the sound—hand guns, shotguns, Molotov cocktails, even homemade grenades and cannons. And that helps, of course, but there's a lot of panic down there, too."

"Got it. Gunners, place cannons on full auto,” Bang ordered into his own headset. “Once you've done so, report to gunny sergeant station.” He turned his attention back to Tomlinson as the other gunners began making their way toward them. “So we're taking a tender down to the surface?"

"Along with as many of the other enhanced Space Marines as can be spared from shipboard ops,” Tomlinson confirmed. “We're to report to Mac's area immediately for debarking. Let's go."

"What about Piki?” Bang asked, laying a hand on his wife's shoulder.

"What about her?"

"Should she go to sick bay to help out, just in case?"

"Sick bay? No. She's part of White Horse now, Bang. She goes where we go."

"No,” Bang groaned. “She's safe on the ship. Don't send her into that."

"You would have me stay behind when you are in danger, Bang-bang?” Piki said, one blonde eyebrow raised over stern copper eyes. “You know better than that."

"I..."

"Will do just as well as you will,” Piki declared firmly. “Now, let us go."

As they headed for the Special Forces area, Bang told his wife, “Remember way back after we rescued you, when you were deciding how you wanted to look?"

"Yes?"

"You said you weren't strong."

"Yes..."

"I TOLD you, you were wrong."

Piki laughed.

As tenders detached from every Earth starship, headed back planetside, the Snappers’ heavily damaged forces renewed their onslaught, attempting to target the tenders. Cannons from the tenders’ parent starships, some automated, some not, opened up on the battleships and carriers.

One Snapper ray found a vulnerable spot in the
HMSS Lord Nelson
's shielding just as the tender passed through. The energy beam made its way in to the hull, slamming the ship sideways as the hull tore open. But nothing vital was hit, and the
Lord Nelson
limped on, correcting attitude for the venting gases and turning its damaged side earthward. Then it renewed its attack.

Inside the
Columbia
's tender, dubbed
Columbia A
, Bang and Jan manned the two disintegrator cannons as Snapper fighter craft buzzed them like flies, firing lasers. But the tender's shielding was similar to that of the clipper ships, and held readily against the lasers. Coordinating their efforts, Jan and Bang swept wide swaths with the cannons, taking out several enemy ships in one go.

Another swarm of fighters attacked, this time attempting to block the
Columbia A
from moving forward. Abruptly a black sphere materialized to starboard, and the fighter craft disappeared, whereupon so did the clipper ship.

"Thanks, Captain Preston,” Hand Anderson radioed via unreality.

"Welcome, Captain Anderson,” came the cheery reply. “Least I could do."

"How's it going?"

"Getting there.
Lady Liberty
estimates twenty-five, maybe as much as thirty, percent of the original fleet taken out,” Preston reported. “That includes all the little bug runabouts. You guys take out the shit on the ground, we'll catch the rest of it upstairs. Godspeed."

The White Horse Platoon joined up with a platoon of the 101st as it fell back toward Memphis. The 101st platoon had dug in and managed to hold a line through a shopping mall, but they were hanging on by their fingernails. Dead bodies, human and Snapper, littered the ground, as well as the freeway the fighting had recently crossed. A few wrecked automobiles were also scattered across the multi-lane highway. The Snappers had themselves literally dug into the midst of the mall parking lot, utilizing abandoned vehicles, concrete K rails, and breaking up the asphalt to create trenches.

The
Columbia A
, which landed on the interstate a mile from the battle line, contained several specialized hovertanks and armored personnel carriers; as chief gunny, Bang got the turret gun of the point tank. Piki joined him. It was a close fit with all of the necessary personnel, but she pointed out that she could fight as well as the rest, and if she could get close enough to the Snappers without harm, might be able to assist by blanking their short term memories.

So they activated the tank's quantum shield, Bang manned the cannon, and Jan drove. Piki had been quickly trained to use the periscope and to swap out power packs to the cannon if needed—Bang adored her eidetic memory in that moment—and Tomlinson commanded the vehicle.

Peggy was in one of the personnel carriers near the rear, in case medics were needed. Most of the rest of White Horse were in tanks as well, save for McAllister's Special Forces unit; they'd gone invisible and were, as Bang put it, “playing ninja” quite effectively among the Snapper foot soldiers.

The 101st platoon was more than glad to see them; they'd lost nearly half their number to the sheer viciousness of the Snappers, combined with trying to save as many of the civilian populace as they could. They fell back as the Space Marines moved past, thankful for the relief.

Within seconds a perimeter wall had been established in front of the Snappers. Any Snapper vehicle or foot soldier who crossed that line ceased to exist, was cut to ribbons, or fell down with scrambled internal organs. The no man's land between the two lines quickly became littered with Snapper remains, and occasionally one blew up well behind the battle line; Bang knew that was Mac's ninjas at work. “Scrambled eggs and sliced ham,” Wersky noted with black humor, indicating the no man's land. “Well, sliced platypus, I guess."

"Boy, do they stink, though,” Bang made a face. “It's even getting through the air filters."

"It's bad,” Tomlinson agreed, “but better them than us. Piki, I need to know how to maneuver to start flanking this group. Can you get me some sight lines?"

"Yes, just a moment, John,” she said, completing the change-out of Crispy batteries that powered both the tank and the cannon. Then she hurried to the periscope and peered out for several seconds. “Keep the turret pointed where it is, Bang-bang,” she replied, “and John, have Jan turn about twenty degrees to port, and move forward."

"Obstacles?” Tomlinson asked.

"A few shrubs, but it is an open car park for a... a strip mall?” she offered. “For the most part."

As Wersky maneuvered the hovertank, the area Piki referenced entered the tiny window that comprised his view on the world. “Oh, I see,” he said. “Good girl.” He aimed the tank toward the opening on the enemy's right flank.

"Point to White Horse Leader,” Tomlinson radioed. “Attempting to flank enemy. Cover requested."

"Cover being provided,” Hand's voice replied. “White Horse T-2, T-3, follow Point. T-5, T-6, double around the strip of buildings on our right. Use the building as a wall, and box ‘em in. Rendezvous with Point at eleven o'clock."

"Roger..."

Bang kept the cannon going, and the Snappers held at bay, extending the perimeter, as Jan deftly floated the tank across the parking lot, drifting right over curbs. The fighting was so fierce that Piki had to change batteries again before they were halfway to their rendezvous point. They were nearly in a position to begin herding the Snappers closer together when they realized that the Snappers had not been oblivious to their efforts.

"LOOK OUT!” Piki shrieked, and suddenly something slammed into the shielding of the tank hard enough to transfer momentum. They “skidded” backward on their float field nearly fifty feet, before coming to a stop against a storefront. A loud, tinkling crash marked the demise of the storefront's window.

"What the HELL was that?!” Tomlinson demanded, and Piki didn't even flinch at the curse.

"Move us, Jan! Hurry!” Piki urged. “They have a PEP cannon! They hit us with it! It took fifteen percent off the battery's charge! Move us!"

Wersky worked the controls of the tank. It whirred loudly, and lurched, but did not move. “I can't. We're hung up on something. How can a hovertank get hung up on something?!"

"HOLD ON!” Piki screamed, and the tank shuddered under another plasma projectile assault. “John, we must do something, and do it fast! We have lost one third of our battery power!"

"SHIT! You've gotta be kidding!” Tomlinson exclaimed. “That's one of the new, super batteries! And you just installed it a few minutes ago!"

"I know! There must be a malfunction, or perhaps this is a faulty battery. I have one battery left to finish this assault before we must return to the tender and resupply! And if they attack while I am changing it, there will not be sufficient power in the tank's reserve system to withstand the plasma projectile!"

"Let me try to take out the PEP cannon!” Bang offered.

"Can you see it, Bang?” Tomlinson asked urgently. “Jan, do whatever it takes to get this damn hunk of machinery moving!"

"I see it, John!” Bang replied, targeting his cannon. “They've got a good emplacement, though. Looks like they've dug pretty deep into the asphalt in the center of the parking lot. The thing pops up to fire and then goes back down. Might take me several shots to break through."

"Do it! Jan, how's it coming??"

Wersky was busy rocking the tank back and forth in an effort to free it from whatever it was stuck on, however, and didn't reply.

While Bang was setting up his shot, another hard impact shook the tank. Then Bang fired, and Piki watched through the periscope as Snapper foot soldiers went down, and an entire SUV, part of the emplacement's physical shield, disappeared. “Keep going, Bang-bang!” she cried. “Target the same position!"